


Sunshine After The Rain

by flawedamythyst



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff, M/M, Not that you'd notice, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Technically a Fix-It, but I didn't so much fix it as drown it in fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8051536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Bucky takes Clint out for breakfast. Some asshole tries to ruin it, but fails.





	Sunshine After The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by certain events from my walk to work this morning. Somewhere in London is a van driver who should count his lucky stars that I'm not an enraged super-soldier.
> 
>  
> 
> (I wish I were an enraged super-soldier.)

It had been raining for pretty much the whole night, but it had just about stopped when Bucky arrived at Clint's apartment.

"Hey, I was in the area, wondered if you wanted to have breakfast?"

He did his best to sound casual, as if he was just bored and looking for someone to hang out with, and not at all like he'd been trying to pluck up the courage to do this for days.

Weeks.

Not quite months though, not yet.

He'd spent way too long just hiding away from everything, it was time to push forward and try and put together a life for himself that wasn't just running and hiding, and this was where he wanted to start. Clint was where he wanted to start.

He'd been wanting to get closer to Clint since Wakanda, long before they'd all moved back to New York in the wake of T'Challa's guys breaking Hydra's brainwashing and Steve and Tony hugging it out. They'd all faced the government down together and got the whole thing swept under the carpet and then Clint had gone back to his apartment in Bed-Stuy while Steve and Bucky had found a place together over in Red Hook. It seemed that none of them were really all that keen on going back to the Avengers base just yet, not even with Tony's apparent change of heart on beating Bucky to a bloody pulp.

"Uh," said Clint, glancing out of the window and scratching at the back of his head. "Sure. My plan for today was pretty much just putting off doing the housework, so I guess breakfast out is a good start on that. Let me find shoes."

He went into his bedroom and Bucky did his best to not look as if he was dancing inside. 

"You got anywhere in mind?" asked Clint, coming back with a hoodie thrown on and a pair of sneakers that didn't look at all waterproof on his feet. It never ceased to surprise Bucky what a mess Clint was any time he didn't have a bow in his hands.

Or just how capable and occasionally mind-blowing he was when he did have a bow in his hands.

"There's a pancakes place a couple of blocks over," he suggested.

Clint grinned as he stepped out and locked his door. "Oh yeah, they're good. And their coffee is pretty epic."

Bucky snorted as they headed down the corridor. "Because your coffee standards are so high. I've seen the sludge you make."

Clint shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as they headed outside. The drizzle that had been clinging on when Bucky had walked over had cleared off, although the ground was still saturated and deep puddles were everywhere.

"Whatever it takes to wake me up. I've never pretended to be classy."

Bucky snorted. "I'd like to see you try classy."

Clint grinned at him. "Next time Tony has one of his galas, I'll get myself all shined up in a tuxedo for you. Blow your mind."

Bucky pictured that. Yeah, that probably would blow his mind. "That might be worth risking Stark beating me to death to see."

They were flirting. Right? It had been decades since the last time Bucky had flirted with anyone, but this felt like it.

"Ah, Pepper wouldn't let Tony beat you to death at a gala," said Clint. "It wouldn't be good for Stark Industries's share price."

He was giving Bucky a cheerful, sideways smile that was making Bucky's heart beat faster than he was used to. Against all expectation, it seemed like this was actually going well.

They came to a corner that was swamped by a puddle spread halfway across the sidewalk and out into the road. Bucky paused to let Clint go ahead, skirting the edge of the building on the part of the sidewalk not covered with water.

There was the rev of an engine behind them and Bucky glanced back just in time to see a guy in a white van speeding up and aiming right for the centre of the puddle. A wall of water flew up and hit Clint, soaking him from head to toe.

"Fuck!" he swore as the van sped off again. Bucky saw the driver glancing in the mirror to look back at them, grinning broadly.

Clint wiped his hand through his hair, then winced and pulled out his hearing aid. "Aw no, come on," he muttered, shaking it.

Bucky saw red. He'd been managing normal social interaction, taking out a guy he liked and feeling like he was getting somewhere, and that asshole had ruined it.

He took off after the van, ignoring the pavement in favour of sprinting up the centre of the road, dodging a motorbike and a couple of cars.

The van was already a block up but Bucky was closing the distance fast. He saw the driver glance in the mirror again, amusement being replaced by nervousness.

He was going to feel a lot more than nervousness once Bucky was done with him.

"Bucky!" he heard Clint call behind him, but he ignored him.

The van sped up as much as it could in the traffic as the driver tried to get away, but Bucky had plenty of experience out-running moving vehicles. It squealed around a corner, leaving a layer of rubber on the road, and Bucky followed.

As soon as he was close enough, he leapt for the van, catching hold of the roof with his metal arm and pulling himself up onto it. The van swerved as if the driver had no idea what to do when a super-soldier climbed on top of his van. Bucky could hear panicked swearing coming from inside. Somewhere behind him were pounding footsteps from where Clint was trying to catch up.

Bucky made it to the front of the van, then leaned down over the windscreen.

"Pull over."

The driver looked absolutely terrified. Rather than do the sensible thing, he jammed the brakes on so suddenly that Bucky was thrown forward, somersaulting off the front of the van.

He managed to land on his feet and then turned to give the driver a glower. He put out his hand onto the hood and pressed down hard enough to bend the metal into fingerprint-shaped dimples, daring the driver to keep driving.

He didn't try it. He just sat in shook, gaping at him. Bucky stepped around and yanked open his door, then pulled him out of the van by his arm.

"Jesus, man, sorry!" the driver babbled. "Sorry, sorry, it was just a joke, yeah?"

"It wasn't funny," growled Bucky, throwing him back against the side of the van and then holding him there with one hand. "That guy saves lives. He's one of the best people I know. When was the last time you did anything to help another person?"

"Oh god, I'm sorry, I am," said the guy. Behind them, Bucky was aware of camera flashes going off and a crowd forming.

He shook the guy by his t-shirt. "I'm not the one you should be apologising to."

"Bucky," said Clint, and Bucky turned his head to see he'd caught up, chest heaving for air. "C'mon, man, let him go. It's not worth it."

He still had one hearing aid clutched in his hand rather than tucked behind his ear. "Is that broken?" asked Bucky, nodding at it.

Clint shrugged. His head was turned to angle the other ear towards Bucky. "Probably just needs to dry out. Come on, we're getting a crowd, let's just go get breakfast."

Bucky turned back to the driver. "Here's what's going to happen," he told the driver. "You're going to apologise to this guy for being a dick, and for breaking his hearing aid. They don't come cheap, you know, especially not those ones. They were handmade by Tony Stark. How much do you think he charges an hour?"

The guy had gone very pale. "Oh god, man, I'm so sorry."

"Not to me," said Bucky, pulling him upright and turning him to face Clint. He kept a tight grip on the guy's shoulders.

Clint gave the guy a look, then raised his eyebrow expectantly.

"Oh god," said the guy. "I'm really sorry. It was just meant to be a joke, I didn't think. Sorry."

"Okay," said Clint, then looked up at Bucky. "Do you think he means it, or is he just terrified of getting his bones crushed?"

Bucky considered, then shrugged. "Does it matter? I don't think he's gonna do it again."

"God no," whimpered the guy. "I won't, I really won't."

Bucky let him go and he half-collapsed, sucking in deep, relieved breaths.

"Just remember," said Clint. "You never know when a guy who looks pretty harmless is going for pancakes with a super-soldier ex-assassin who hates bullies."

The driver nodded frantically and then got back in his van, shutting the door with a slam as if it had a hope of keeping Bucky out if he decided he wanted to beat on him a bit.

Clint looked around at the gathered crowd, many of whom were holding phones up to video the event. Bucky suddenly realised that maybe, just maybe, he'd over-reacted and was going to get into trouble.

Oh god, Steve was going to give him _that_ look. 

"Okay, nothing to see here," said Clint. "Just some Avengers business."

"Oh!" said a near-by woman. "Are you Iron Fist?!"

Clint sighed and his shoulders slumped. "Not today," he said, and turned back to Bucky. "Still on for breakfast?"

Bucky clenched his hand and then forced himself to relax. Breakfast. He could still be the man he wanted to be this morning, the one taking a guy he liked out for a meal, and not the one chasing a moving vehicle and scaring the crap out of a civilian. More than one civilian if the looks he was getting were anything to go by.

"Yeah, okay," he said. He stepped away from the van, back to the sidewalk, and the van driver took his chance to get away from them, driving off with a throaty rev of his engine.

"I definitely need pancakes now," said Clint, shaking his head and then running his hand through his damp hair. "With stupid amounts of syrup."

Bucky made sure he was on the side Clint still had an aid on as they set off again. "You don't want to go home and get changed first?"

Clint glanced down at himself. "Nah. I've had breakfast wearing worse. Pour enough coffee down my throat and I'll dry out." He glanced up at Bucky with a small, sideways smile. "Don't want you changing your mind, or getting distracted by going after some other asshole who needs a scare." He blinked. "Huh. I think I just worked out why you and Steve became friends."

"I ain't gonna change my mind," said Bucky, focusing on the most important bit.

Clint's smile widened. "I heard what you said to him, about me," he said. "That you think I'm one of the best guys you've met. I'm guessing given you've spent the last few decades with Hydra agents, that's a pretty low bar."

"Are you kidding?" asked Bucky. "If I was counting Hydra agents, then that guy would be one of the best guys I'd met," he said, gesturing back in the direction the van had sped off in. "Nah, you're just-" He realised halfway through the sentence that he didn't have a way to end that wasn't either lame, too much for a couple of friends having breakfast, or a massive cop-out. Shit. He settled for shrugging.

Clint made an amused noise. "Ah yeah, 'just'. I get that a lot. Was thinking about putting it on my resume, but Nat said it was too much like bragging."

Bucky rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be goaded into clarifying. "I know how hard you have to work to keep up with the team, given that most of them have a headstart with either super-powers or technology, but you never make a big deal about it, and you're always exactly where someone needs you to be. Doing the right thing."

Oh man, that really was too much. He might as well have just carved out his heart and handed it over on a silver platter.

Clint ducked his head which meant Bucky couldn't even see what his expression was, then muttered, "Fuck it." He looked back up with determination. "I was gonna wait until after breakfast for this, but-"

He stopped walking so Bucky stopped too, and then Clint leaned in and kissed him, resting one hand on his shoulder as their lips brushed. There was nothing tentative about it but when Clint leaned back, he looked like he'd asked Bucky a question he was desperately hoping would get a positive response.

Bucky hadn't even begun to plan for anything like this. His plan had got as far as taking Clint out and sounding him out on how he felt about Bucky, but he hadn't thought there'd be any kissing, at least not until after he'd had time to go away and process the whole thing.

No time for processing now, though. And apparently no need for sounding Clint out. Instead, Bucky leaned back in and kissed him, putting his arm around Clint's waist to hold him close as he did so.

“Awesome,” muttered Clint, and kissed him again.

“You're blocking the way,” said an irritated voice, and they both pulled apart to look at the frowning woman behind them.

“Sorry,” said Clint, cheerfully, stepping back to let her past. He looked back at Bucky. “Pancakes?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. Pancakes.”

And then, maybe a bit more kissing, combined with a cheesy offer to get Clint out of his wet clothes. That sounded like an update to Bucky's plan that he could live with.


End file.
